


bertie with pain is a motive.

by lonelyheartsclub_com



Category: Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens
Genre: M/M, This is sad.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:42:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyheartsclub_com/pseuds/lonelyheartsclub_com
Summary: it's 1945, and stephen bampton has been allowed to walk free for his crimes committed back in 1935 due to his service in the british army, and bertie wells is forced to confront his ex boyfriend - and his suicidal feelings as they come to an all time high.
Relationships: Harold Mukherjee/Bertie Wells
Kudos: 12





	bertie with pain is a motive.

**Author's Note:**

> tw unintentional suicide, suicidal feelings, war, death, falling from a height/heights, abuse (slight)

"MURDERER ALLOWED TO WALK FREE FOR HIS SERVICE IN THE WAR," the headline read. Below was a picture of Stephen Bampton, circa 1933. His lips were curled up into a cruel grin that Bertie knew all too well, and his arsenic green eyes were sparkling with malice. He looked haunting. It was the grin that he gave Bertie whenever he was ready to hit him, or whenever he wanted Bertie to make it up to him. 

Stephen Bampton had been re-trialed after the war, and the court let him walk free.

They let a bloody murderer go. He might be walking through town square right now, whistling with his hands in his pocket, acting as if he hadn't slipped arsenic into somebody's tea all those years ago. When they were both just boys who had their whole lives ahead of them. When they were both just boys who wanted to pretend the relationship they had built up between the two of them that was really built upon delusion and lies was perfect. 

When they were just boys. 

"Morning, love," Harold muttered, plopping himself down at the dinner table, his hair an unkempt mess and the smile on his face pure. Bertie said nothing. Harold frowned, and put his hand on Bertie's. 

"Is everything okay?" Bertie, again, didn't reply. He just pushed the newspaper towards Harold, who read it in a matter of seconds before whispering, "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I really am."

Bertie nodded in thanks, taking another sip of his coffee. Daisy walked into the room, a frown on her face. "Bertie, have you heard?"

He looked up. "About Stephen? Yeah, thanks for reminding me, Squashy. I was trying to forget." She put a hand on his shoulder and muttered a, "Sorry, love." before walking out. 

By the time the day had progressed, Bertie was already starting to get irritated. Everyone apart from Alfred, Amanda and Henry was acting like he was made of glass, as if saying the wrong thing would be the equivalent of stepping on him, and he'd shatter and bleed out right in front of them and fall back into their arms. They were treating him like a porcelain doll that was too fragile to be held properly in fear of breaking it. 

He sat on the roof. Overlooking London at 7PM in the evening whilst contemplating suicide was a thing he'd done before, and if he didn't jump, it would most likely be something he would do again. 

"Alright, Bertie? It's been 10 years since I last saw you. One might even say it's been too long." His blood chilled, and it was like something seized him by the throat. This wasn't happening. Stephen Bampton was standing right there. He was standing right behind him.

"I was hoping I'd never see you again." Bertie muttered. "It hasn't been long enough." his voice was devoid of all emotion. Stephen laughed. A kind of deranged laugh that reminded him of all the shit he'd put Bertie through. 

"Oh, Bertie, sweetheart, you don't mean that." His footsteps got louder, and he slung an arm around Bertie's broad shoulders. He wanted to scream, make some sort of noise that would let someone know he was there, and Stephen was there with him, and that he was most likely about to die. 

But still he made no sound.

"You still love me. I bet you think about me everyday." he whispered. Then, there were footsteps and Harold came out onto the roof. 

"Stephen, get away from him!" he shouted, trying to pull him away from Bertie. Stephen swung on him, and luckily missed, but Harold almost tripped in the process of dodging. 

"Or what?" he hissed, smiling. "You and what army is going to stop me?"

Harold rolled his eyes. "Come try me, prick!" Stephen said nothing, but he turned to Bertie. 

"You want to jump, don't you?"

"Bertie! Don't listen!"

"Go on. Do it. Don't be a bloody coward for once."

"Bertie, _jaanu_ , I love you! Don't listen to what he's saying! Don't give in!" 

Bertie could hear his blood rushing in his ears. Then, he could hear a voice in the back of his head.

 _Go on. You know Stephen's right. He's always been right._ It was Stephen's voice, but distorted.

 **Bertie, don't! Don't sink to his level.** Another voice cut through the darkness, and it sounded like Harold's.

"Bertie, can you hear me? I'm talking to you!"

Stephen scowled. "Shut up, coloured boy! Bertie, Bertie, you pathetic motherfucker, jump!" 

_Well? Are you waiting for an audience? Call for Daisy and her friends, they'll want to see you die._

**Bertie, if you could survive a war, you can weather this storm, I promise!**

Bertie shook his head. "I don't know! I don't bloody know, what do I do-"

Then, Daisy, Henry, Amanda and Alfred burst through the door, onto the roof.

"Bertie! What the bloody hell? Is that Stephen Bampton?"

He looked over at her and smiled. "The one and only, sweetheart. Jesus, you're taller since I last saw you. But I suppose 10 years will do that to a person." Her face went red, and her hands started shaking. 

"Fuck you, Stephen! Do you know what you did to me, my family, to Bertie-"

"Stop the pleasantries. Bertie, come away from the roof. Please. And as for you, Bampton, you bloody scum of the earth-" Henry started.

"Shut it." He wrapped a choke-holding arm around Bertie's neck. "Go on, look at the ground. Isn't that where you want to be laying, dead in a pool of your own blood whilst your sister, boyfriend and your friends cry. "Bertie! No! Wake up please!"" he mimicked.

"You're bloody crazy! Bertie, sweetheart, grab for my hand." Amanda said, holding her arm out for him. He tried, but Stephen yanked him back just before Amanda could reach him. 

"Not so fast. I don't want to throw you off the roof, Bertie. Still, I will if i must," he said, his eyes clouding with bloodlust. Harold walked up to Stephen. "Not so fast. If you come any closer, I'm afraid Bertie's going over!" He grinned, and Bertie's heart stopped. He was terrified. 

"Bullshit. You still love Bertie."

"Ha! I stopped loving him years ago. Now, anyone have anything they want to say before he goes over?"

"Wells, I don't know what the fuck you've gotten yourself into, but you're a dead man walking." Alfred said, colour flooding into his face. Amanda wacked him. "Sorry! Hold on, we'll get you away from there."

Bertie struggled against Stephen's grasp, which was like iron. "Fucking let go of me! What happened to us, Stephen?"

"What happened was you started to fall away from me, and we can't have that, can we? So, fuck it, you're goin' over! If I can't have you, no one can."

There was a struggle, a flash of ginger and then brown and black, and Bertie was free, able to breathe again. Harold had Stephen pinned against the roof edge. "What was that, Bampton?"

He struggled. "Fuck off!"

Harold kept him pinned, and there was a scuffle, a yell, and suddenly, Stephen fell over the edge. 

Bertie watched in horror as Stephen fell, down down down-

And then there was nothing more than blood and a dead body on the pavement. The noise that was made when Stephen hit the floor reminded him of all the bombs they'd thrown in enemy trenches, and he flinched. Harold swallowed. "Bloody hell-" 

Daisy ran up to Bertie and hugged him. "You idiot."

Bertie looked down at the pavement again, and what was left of Stephen. He wanted to be sick. Who would've known that the person that he'd loved all those years ago would end up like that? 

He looked back to all his friends and his sister, who looked utterly terrified. Bertie fell to his knees crying, and Harold hugged him. "I've got you, I promise."


End file.
